"Sirdar, when I send two Rampore hounds from my kennel to make the kill
of a tiger you may tackle Amir Khan. Even if we could crumple up this
blighter it's not cricket--we need those Pindari chaps--but not as dead
men. Besides, I detest bloodshed."
The Dewan rolled his bulbous eyes despairingly: "If Sindhia would send
ten camel loads of gold to this accursed Musselman, we could sleep in
peace," he declared.
"If it were a woman Sindhia would," Nana Sahib sneered.
Baptiste laughed.
"It is a wisdom, Prince, for that is where the revenue goes: women are
a curse in the affairs of men," the Dewan commented.
"With four wives your opinion carries weight, Dewani," and Nana Sahib
tapped the fat knee of the Minister with his riding whip.
Baptiste turned to the Prince. "There will be trouble over these
Pindaris; your friends, the English--eh, Nana Sahib--"
As though the handsome aquiline face of the Peshwa's son had been
struck with a glove it changed to the face of a devil; the lips
thinned, and shrinking, left the strong white teeth bare in a wolf's
snarl.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25